


Mysterious Ways

by vanillalime



Category: Law & Order: SVU, Oz (TV)
Genre: 1970s, Adolescent Sexuality, Alternate Universe - Childhood Friends, Community: oz_wishing_well, Crossover, Mild Hurt/Comfort, Multi, Summer of Oz
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-07-25
Updated: 2016-07-25
Packaged: 2018-07-26 17:02:32
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,860
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7582480
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/vanillalime/pseuds/vanillalime
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>A young Toby makes some new friends during summer break.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Mysterious Ways

**Author's Note:**

> Originally posted to LiveJournal in August 2015. Written for the Summer Lovin' theme week for the 2015 Summer of Oz fest.
> 
> A couple of years prior to writing this story, I received some nice feedback for a drabble I wrote for an Oz drabble tree, including some requests for expanding the story further. The Summer of Oz's theme week of Summer Lovin' seemed like a great opportunity to do just that. The original drabble is repeated here as the beginning to this story.

**JUNE**

Toby sat down on the park bench near the play area for really little kids, far away from the basketball court. The bigger kids hanging out over there—the ones who rode dirt bikes and used swear words and wrestled around on the ground—always scared him a little. His dad had said he would be in the courthouse for only a few minutes, but Toby had heard that before.

Toby opened up his book to the carefully marked page. He was working his was through all the Hardy Boys Mysteries, in order, and was currently on #29. As he began to read, Toby became oblivious to his surroundings... until a dark, unmoving shadow blocked his light. He looked up into the face of a boy a little bigger than him, with blazing blue eyes, short dark hair, and a crooked grin that could pass for either nasty or nice.

"That's a good one," the boy said. "I've read them all. I'm going to be a detective, just like them, when I grow up."

Toby smiled brightly. He liked this boy already. "Me, too. Or maybe a lawyer, like my dad."

"My name's Elliot. Wanna play Hardy Boys? I get to be Frank, since I have dark hair and I'm older. You'd make a good Joe."

"Sure!" Toby exclaimed. "What do you want to do?"

Elliot looked over at the basketball court. "My cousin Chris is over there. I'm sure he's up to no good. Let's go investigate."

Toby jumped up and eagerly walked with Elliot across the playground. He wasn't scared anymore.

***  
Raucous voices trailed away as Toby and Elliot approached the group of bigger kids. Toby felt the weight of their suspicious eyes upon him, obviously viewing both him and Elliot as unwanted intruders. Glancing around, Toby met their gazes and quickly identified the boy who must be Chris, for he and Elliot looked as if they could have been twins.

Raising an eyebrow, Chris slid down from the seat of a dirt bike and stood in front of them.

"Whataya want, Elliot?" he asked, defensively crossing his arms across his chest.

"Just thought I'd stop by and see what you're doing," Elliot replied. "This here is my new friend, Joe—er, Toby," he said with a toss of his head. "Toby, this is my cousin, Chris."

Toby automatically put out his hand and said, "Nice to meet you."

For a split second, Chris's eyes opened wide in surprise before they narrowed into a squint. Keeping his arms crossed, he slowly looked Toby up and down, and Toby suddenly became very aware of the fact that he was wearing a polo shirt and plaid shorts, while all the other boys had on t-shirts and denim cut-offs. He self-consciously shifted in place and felt the Hardy Boys slip out of his other hand. The book fell to the ground with a splutter.

Toby's cheeks burned, and he dropped his out-stretched hand back down by his side. Chris gave him a grin that looked a lot like Elliot's, except this one had a definite nasty edge to it.

Chris glanced back at Elliot. "You sure know how to pick 'em," he remarked. Shaking his head, he hopped back onto his bike. "I was just leavin' anyway."

Another boy scrambled up from the ground and yelled out, "Don't forget your bag!"

The boy picked up a nearby backpack and tossed it toward Chris. But the boy had misjudged the distance, and as the bag flew past Chris, its contents fell out from its unzipped depths and landed directly in front of Elliot and Toby.

"Ronnie, you shithead!" Chris exclaimed, and all the boys looked down at the ground to see what had been inside.

"Cassette tapes? Wow!"

"Those sound great!"

"Look at 'em all!"

"They must be worth a fortune!"

As Chris jumped back off his bike, Elliot and Toby bent over and began gathering up the small plastic cases.

" _Hotel California, Frampton Comes Alive, Rumors,_ " Toby read off as he picked up each tape.

" _Boston, Bat Out of Hell, Goodbye Yellow Brick Road,_ " echoed Elliot. Then he paused, studying the next two tapes in his hand, before looking back up at Chris. " _John Denver’s Greatest Hits_?  _Barry Manilow Live_?"

Snickering sounds erupted from behind Chris’s back as he snatched the tapes out of their hands and stuffed them back into his bag.

"Mind your own business," he muttered.

Toby screwed up his courage. "You don’t strike me as a Barry Manilow kind of guy," he said quietly but clearly.

The snickers turned to laughter.

Chris spun around. "Shut up!" he yelled at the other boys.

"He’s not," Elliot shook his head. "Where’d you get all those tapes, Chris?"

"I found them."

"Really? Where? Inside some unlocked cars?"

Chris glared at Elliot. "Are you accusin' me of stealin'?" he asked in a low and menacing voice. He threw his bag down and took on an aggressive stance.

The laughter from the other boys quickly died. One by one, they gathered around Chris and Elliot.

But Elliot’s eyes never left his cousin’s face. "Maybe," he answered. Refusing to back down, he slowly took a couple of small steps forward, inching his way closer to Chris.

Toby suddenly wished that he had stayed on the park bench and read his book. He wondered where his dad was. He tried to think of what he would do in this situation.

Trying to remain calm, Toby loudly cleared his throat. "Chris said he found them," he stated firmly. "And that means that someone is probably looking for them. They should go in the Lost and Found."

Toby held his hand out. "I know exactly where that is. If you want to give me the tapes, I’d be glad to take them over there for you."

Chris turned and sneered at him. He stood there a moment, eyeing Toby, before snorting, "Fine." He grabbed the bag and turned it upside down, dumping the contents at their feet. "You two fags can do whatever you want with 'em."

Chris climbed back onto his dirt bike and tore off across the playground. Within seconds, he was racing down the road and out of sight. The other boys, seemingly nonplussed by the events, began talking among themselves while Toby and Elliot picked the cassette tapes back up again.

As they walked away, Elliot playfully dug his elbow into Toby's side. "Nice work, Joe," he said with a smile.

Toby finally breathed a sigh of relief. "Thanks. I'll give these to my dad and tell him we found them. He'll probably take them over to the police station."

"Chris needs to learn a lesson. The police should know who stole them."

Toby shook his head. "Not for a first offense. Everyone makes mistakes and deserves a second chance."

Elliot laughed. "You have no idea how many second chances Chris has already had," he said.

Then he turned serious. "You might want to keep your eyes and ears open," he warned. "Chris knows how to hold a grudge."

After they reached the bench where they'd met, Toby and Elliot exchanged phone numbers and made plans to meet again. Toby tried to concentrate on his new friend, but he found himself overwhelmed by thoughts of Chris and what kind of revenge someone like him might dream up.

Maybe detective work was a little more dangerous than he’d realized. He decided that becoming a lawyer was probably the better career choice for him.

 

**JULY**

Chris and Ronnie lay on their stomachs on a hilltop that overlooked the old, run-down Simmons property. The abandoned Simmons house—a murder house—glowed in the moonlight. It was rumored to be haunted, but Chris knew that those rumors had been started by high-schoolers who used the house as a gathering place to drink and smoke pot.  
  
Chris slowly sat up and removed the binoculars from around his neck. He fished a pack of cigarettes out of his back pocket. "You want one?" he offered Ronnie.  
  
"No, thanks," he answered. "I had a couple earlier."  
  
Chris handed the binoculars over to Ronnie. "Let me know if you see any signs of 'em," he instructed.  
  
"Maybe they've chickened out."  
  
"Nah, I know Elliot. He won't chicken out."  
  
"Maybe little Toby the Toadie chickened out."  
  
Chris shook his head as he lit his cigarette. "I don't think so. From what I've seen, Toby knows how to hold his own."  
  
Ronnie fidgeted with the binoculars and hesitated. Slowly, he said, "Seems like you've been spendin' a lot of time lately watchin' the two of them."  
  
Chris took a long drag before he spoke again. "Ronnie, you're such a dumbass. Spyin' is how you learn things—what people are like, what their strengths and weaknesses are."  
  
Ronnie tilted his head and smiled dimly. "Oh, that makes sense." He brought the binoculars up to his eyes and focused them. A couple of minutes later, he exclaimed, "Hey, I see him! I see Elliott! He's ridin' his bike, and his boyfriend is right behind him!"  
  
Chris quickly crushed his cigarette out in the dirt and grabbed the binoculars back. Looking into the distance, he said, "Good. Now the fun can begin."  
  
After a few seconds had passed, Chris put the binoculars back down and slowly turned toward Ronnie. "Do you really think they're boyfriends?" he asked quietly.  
  
Ronnie looked at Chris in surprise. "Of course not! I was just makin' a joke." Ronnie shook his head. "At least, they better not be!"  
  
"Why not?"  
  
"Shit, Chris, everyone knows bein' a fag is against the law!"  
  
Chris grunted. "Since when've you been so concerned about breakin' the law?" he asked.  
  
Ronnie rubbed a hand over his face. "Well, if that's not enough, fags go to hell when they die. Ain't nothin' worse'n that."  
  
Chris nodded his head and looked away again. "Yeah, you're right."  
  
The two of them then lay in silence and watched as Elliot and Toby drew closer. Eventually, they reached the Simmons house and got off their bikes. Tied to each bike's handlebar was a sleeping bag, and both Elliot and Toby were wearing backpacks. They unloaded their gear, propped their bikes against the front porch of the old house, and slowly made their way inside.  
  
Ronnie giggled. "Those two Hardy Boys are about to have a night they'll never forget."  
  
Chris eyed him carefully. "Now, you're sure you got everything set up right? The whistles, the chains, the fake blood... I don't wanna get over there and find out our plan's all screwed up 'cause you forgot to do somethin'."  
  
"Oh, no, Chris, I swear. I did everything exactly how you told me to. All we gotta do is wait for them to settle in."  
  
Five minutes passed, then ten. "I think that’s good enough," Chris finally said. He stood up and helped Ronnie to his feet. They cautiously began to make their way toward the house, but Chris came to an abrupt stop about halfway down the hill.  
  
"Ronnie!" he hissed. "Do you see somethin’ in the upstairs window? Some kind of weird light?"  
  
Ronnie squinted and caught his breath. "Yeah! I wonder what it could be?" He paused. "You don’t suppose the house is really haunted, do ya?"  
  
They stood still and continued to watch the window. The light grew brighter, but then became partially obscured by wisps of black smoke.  
  
Suddenly, Chris turned around and grabbed Ronnie by the shirt. "Those cigarettes you had earlier... were you smokin’ them inside that house? Were you careful to put them out?"  
  
Ronnie’s mouth hung open, and he stared blankly at Chris. "I, uh, think so... y’know, pretty sure... " he stuttered.  
  
Chris shook him hard. "You moron! You started a fire in there!"  
  
Chris turned and started to run toward the house, but the grass had grown damp in the night air. He slipped and fell and slid the rest of the way down the hill on his butt. He stumbled back up to his feet just in time to see Elliot run out of the house, hop onto his bike, and take off.  
  
Ronnie caught up to him and tugged him by the arm. "C’mon, Chris, we gotta get outta here! If we get caught, they’ll know it was us. They’ll never blame those goody-two-shoes. We’ll be in big trouble."  
  
They both looked back up at the old house and could now see that the flames had spread to a second window.  
  
"Are you kidding?" Chris cried. "Toby’s still in there! We gotta go get him!"  
  
"I’m not riskin’ my life to save that toadie!" yelled Ronnie, and he disappeared back up the hill and into the darkness.  
  
Chris raced across the yard and into the house. He looked frantically for Toby, calling his name, but got no response. He climbed up the stairs to the second floor and immediately felt an increase in temperature and a decrease in his ability to breathe. He finally found Toby in the room with the fire, apparently deafened by its roar. He was desperately trying to extinguish the flames by smothering them with his sleeping bag and clearly losing the battle.  
  
Chris grabbed a hold of Toby and dragged him out of the room, down the stairs, through the door, and outside. They stood there together, doubled over with their hands on their knees, coughing and trying to regain their breath.  
  
"What the hell were you doing?" Chris finally gasped.  
  
"Elliot told me to try to put it out," Toby wheezed, "while he left to go call for help."  
  
"Jesus, Elliot's such an idiot!" Chris exclaimed with a roll of his eyes. He reached over and pulled Toby into a tight embrace. "I thought you were gonna die in there."  
  
A siren could be heard in the distance, rapidly growing closer.  
  
Chris quickly let go of Toby, shoved him to the ground, and ran off into the night.  
  
  


**August**

Toby felt Elliot carefully put his arm around his shoulders. Toby was trying as best he could to hold back the tears, but he was dangerously close to losing it. And breaking down like a baby in front of Elliot would just make him feel worse than he already did.  
  
Toby threw the busted lock down to the ground in disgust. Whenever he came to the park, he was always so careful about chaining his bike up to the bicycle rack. It was his dream bike, the one he had begged for on his last birthday, and his parents were always warning him of its theft potential. Sure enough, it had proven to be too much of a temptation for some lowlife who'd singled out his bike from all the others.  
  
"Maybe your parents'll get you a new one," said Elliot as he rubbed his shoulder. He paused before adding, "They got the money."  
  
Toby rubbed his nose and tried to discreetly wipe his eyes. "There's more to it than that," he huffed. "I bet losing my bike means I lose my freedom, too. This'll be the excuse that my mom and dad have been looking for to keep me home. Ever since the fire, they've been really weird about me coming to the park to play."  
  
Elliot dropped his arm and gave him a funny look. "You mean they've been really weird about you coming to the park to play  _with me_."  
  
Toby looked at him in surprise. "No, Elliot! They really like you, I swear! After all, you're the big town hero—the kid who got to the Fire Department in time for them to save the Simmons house." Toby glanced over at the basketball court. "It's some of the other kids that they're worried about."  
  
"Like Chris?"  
  
"Yeah, like Chris," sighed Toby, "I keep trying to tell them that he’s just misunderstood."  
  
Elliot followed Toby's gaze and squinted into the distance. "Well, speak of the devil. Look who's riding toward us."  
  
Sure enough, Chris had turned the corner around the basketball court and was quickly cutting through the park, heading straight toward them. Halfway across the playground, Chris put his hand up to wave to them.  
  
Just as Toby began to wave back, Elliot exclaimed, "I don't believe it! He’s riding your bike!"  
  
Looking closer, Toby realized Elliot was right. Chris was riding an electric-blue Schwinn Varsity 10-speed bicycle that could only be Toby's. Toby stood in shock for a moment and then rushed over to greet him.  
  
With a huge grin on his face, Chris came to a screeching halt and hopped off the bike. "Hey, Toby! Isn't this your's?"  
  
"Yes! Yes! I thought it was gone for good!" cried Toby. He reached up and gave Chris a big hug. "Thank you so much!" he said. Chris smiled awkwardly as he handed the bike over to Toby.  
  
Elliot caught up to them and stared at Chris. "Where'd you find it?" he asked.  
  
"Some kid a few blocks over was tryin' to sell it. I recognized it as Toby's and told the kid I wouldn’t squeal on him if he just gave it to me."  
  
Chris held up an arm to flex his muscles. "I might've also threatened him with a little bodily harm," he chuckled.  
  
"Somebody just stole it this morning," explained Toby. "They even used bolt cutters to cut through the lock."  
  
Chris shook his head. "Some kids... I tell ya."  
  
Elliot continued to stare at his cousin. "That's a pretty quick turnaround time for a stolen bike," he commented.  
  
Chris shrugged his shoulders, watching Toby as he checked out his bike. "When someone's got hot goods, they try to get rid of 'em as quick as they can," he explained.  
  
Chris slowly turned to look at Elliot. "A great detective such as yourself should know that."  
  
The two of them studied each other for several seconds until Toby faced them again.  
  
"It's in perfect condition!" he commented. "You're my hero, Chris. I owe you big time."  
  
Chris quickly looked down at his feet before mumbling, "No problem." He cleared his throat and, with a toss of his head, quietly said, "Ronnie's waitin'." Then he took off running in the direction from which he'd come.  
  
Toby turned to Elliot. "See? He's not so bad."  
  
Elliot stood and looked at him. "Yeah, maybe."  
  
Toby got the sense that Elliot was hiding something. "What do you mean, 'maybe'?" he asked.  
  
Elliot shrugged. "Maybe he's not so bad, if he likes you."  
  
Toby put his hands on his hips. "Are you saying that only reason Chris got my bike back for me is because he wants to be my friend?"  
  
"No, I'm saying that the only reason your bike went  _missing_  is because Chris wants to be your friend."  
  
Toby's mouth dropped open.  
  
Elliot shook his head. "Don't be naive, Toby. Chris is really clever—he knows how to get what he wants. And I think he wants you."  
  
  


**September  
Labor Day weekend**

Toby sat down on the park bench near the play area for really little kids and opened his book to the carefully marked page. He was currently reading Hardy Boys Mysteries #44,  _The Haunted Fort_. For some reason, though, the Hardy Boys didn't seem to be quite as exciting as they used to be.  
  
Before long, his light was momentarily blocked by a shadow, but Toby didn’t bother to look up. He knew who it belonged to.  
  
He felt a warm, solid body slide into place next to him on the bench.  
  
"Still readin’ them books, huh?" asked Chris.  
  
Toby smiled as he slid his bookmark into place. "It helps pass the time."  
  
"Where’s Elliot this weekend, anyway?"  
  
"Elliot’s joined my Boy Scout troop," explained Toby. "And they’re having a campout this weekend up at Lake Silverwood."  
  
"Why ain’t you there?"  
  
"My grandmother was supposed to visit this weekend. But she cancelled at the last minute when her lumbago started acting up."  
  
"What the hell’s lumbago?"  
  
Toby paused, then began to laugh. "I don’t really know," he said. "But I guess you can’t travel when it acts up."  
  
Chris smiled in return, and they sat in silence for a few minutes while they watched two little kids climb their way through a metal structure that vaguely resembled a spaceship.  
  
"So, you excited for your fancy prep school to start back up?" Chris finally asked.  
  
"Sure, I like school."  
  
Chris snorted. "That doesn’t surprise me."  
  
"What about you?"  
  
"Oh, I’m just dyin’ to jump into my school’s shop program along with Ronnie and all the rest of the losers," Chris replied gruffly.  
  
"You’re not a loser, Chris," Toby gently countered. "You’re a lot smarter than you give yourself credit for."  
  
Toby paused before continuing, trying to be sensitive to Chris’s feelings. "Maybe you should check out your school’s academic program. Try taking those classes for a while, see what happens. Elliot could help you."  
  
Chris shook his head. "There’s no way. I’m no goody-two-shoes."  
  
"Being smart doesn’t mean that you have to be a goody-two-shoes."  
  
"Elliot is. You are."  
  
Toby felt the guilt roll around in his stomach. He hesitated before responding, "No, I’m not."  
  
Chris rolled his eyes. "Oh, yeah? Is that right? Tell me one bad thing you’ve done in your life."  
  
Toby turned to face Chris. Quietly, he said, "A few months ago, I snuck some wine out of my parents’ wine cellar. I drank two big glasses of it."  
  
"You did?" asked Chris in surprise.  
  
"Yes, I did."  
  
"How was it?"  
  
Toby smiled. "It was incredible. It tasted like the world’s best grape juice, with all these extra flavors mixed in. Then it had this little extra kick to it that made me feel wonderful. I can’t wait to try it again sometime."  
  
Toby faced forward again and stared out across the park. "Maybe you can be there with me when I do," he added. "Something tells me that Elliot wouldn’t be much interested in trying it."  
  
Chris’s grin spread from ear-to-ear. "Sounds like a plan to me," he declared.  
  
They sat in silence again for a while, simply enjoying the sights and sounds of the park. Then, very quietly, Chris mumbled, almost inaudibly, "I really like you, Toby."  
  
"I know, Chris," responded Toby softly. "I like you, too."  
  
Chris tensed. "No, you don’t understand... "  
  
"Oh, yes, I do." Toby slowly moved his hand and gently placed it on top of Chris’s thigh. "Like I said, I like you, too."  
  
Chris just stared at Toby’s hand, apparently not daring to touch it, but making no attempt to tear himself away from it, either.  
  
Slowly, Toby pulled his hand away again and picked up his book. He drew a deep breath and stood up and faced Chris.  
  
"I should be getting home," he told him. "But I want you to know that just because school’s starting up again, doesn’t mean I won’t be around. I’ll be here if you want to find me."  
  
Toby turned away. As he started walking in the direction of the bicycle rack, he heard a low voice behind him say, "Oh, I’ll find ya."  
  
Toby’s smile lasted all the way home. 


End file.
